Holes
by moot3100
Summary: The UN Meetinng is going south as usual. So, what happens when it's decided that everyone will go to France's house for another conference...and only you show up. At the country of loves house. Completely alone. Will love prevail? Read and find out! France x Reader France/Reader oneshot. Please R&R!


You sat in your pajamas, glancing warily at the unfamiliar sights around you. You were surrounded by the intoxicating smell of wine and roses, using all your willpower not to gag. Sighing, you glanced back up at the wall clock: 7:30 at night.

You messaged your temples in frustration. _Where is everyone…?_ The last thing you wanted to do was to spend the night alone at _his _place. You really cornered yourself on this one.

Earlier that day in the conference room, the World Meeting was uneventful as usual, everyone spouting curses and insults at the other (Minus Ludwig and Kiku. One of them was yelling for everyone to be more orderly while the other was keeping silent and reading the atmosphere).

You, on the other hand, were getting a kick out of all the turmoil. It was really the only reason you came to these types of things; you knew none of them could get along well. It never failed to bring a smile to your face!

Suddenly, Arthur stood from his chair, stating what had been on everyone's mind for the past half hour. "This is bloody ridiculous! Can't we just have one sophisticated meeting without going at each other's throats?" He shouted.

The room was silent for awhile, people trying to absorb what he'd just said. There were a couple of nods before the hero decided to speak up. "Dude, I think our conferences would be totes better if we had like a party/ meeting at someone's house!"

Arthur's eyebrows knit together (Scary to think about, isn't it? *shot*), seemingly furious that he'd even suggested it. Before he could scold him however, you piped up, earning everyone's attention.

"That's actually a good idea."

Alfred, suddenly bashful, crossed his arms awkwardly, trying to put on a cocky smirk. "O-Of course it was! I am the HERO, after all!" You shrugged off his comment and continued.

"Just think about it: We all come together at someone's house, have some friendly chit-chat, then get back to business. Everybody will be a lot more relaxed and not feel as high-strung as they do in a conference room!"

There were many murmurs of agreement and a handful of nods before Yao raised his hand. "Aiyah, I do not know about this, _. Besides, who's house would we come to, aru? Definitely not mine!"

Many people shouted their agreement with the Chinese man, stating how they'd scare away Flying Mint Bunny or raid the beer stashes. Eventually, it came between your house and Francis's.

Ugh. When you said everyone should stay at someone's house, you didn't mean yours! Plus, how was everyone going to fit in your little home? It would be Pangea all over again!

Francis saw your look of concern and chuckled. "I would be honored if mon cheres were able to stay at my place~ I just can't guarantee you'd all be able to leave…Honhonhon!"

Everyone- including you- flinched slightly at his little comment, thinking of all the things he could be insinuating. After a long pause of silence, you spoke again. "So, it looks that our only choice is Francis's house…6:30 a good time for everyone?"

Hesitantly, they nodded. "Meeting dismissed!" the German bellowed, cueing everyone to scurry for the door.

That's basically why you were there. In Francis's house. In only PJs. The very thought of it made you shiver. When you first arrived, Francis's welcomed you in and asked if you'd like anything to drink. Politely you shook your head, hoping he wouldn't notice the small fear reflected in your (e/c) eyes.

With much fanfare, he ushered you into the living room. "You may just wait here for zhe others to arrive. Don't miss me too much, mon fleur ~" With that, he slipped into what you assumed to be the kitchen.

You groaned, throwing your head back into one of the plush pillows behind you. Approximately an hour and a half had passed and no one had shown up. Francis's still hadn't left the kitchen, and you were starting to get a little lonely.

You didn't know much about the Frenchmen, only hearsay from Arthur and the other nations. And from what they've told you, he wasn't all that pleasant a man. _He doesn't seem like that perverted a guy, despite flirting sometimes, but isn't that every guy's normal…_

He'd been awfully kind to you since you started attending the World Meetings, so you knew of his…tendencies…But they never really bothered you. In fact, you found it kind of cute when he'd give you a rose. It's just the thought of being with him alone in his house that kind of frightened you.

Bundling up as much courage as you could muster, you walked into the kitchen. You saw the Frenchmen slaving over what looked to an omelet. You couldn't help but giggle when you noticed him wearing a pink, frilly apron with the words 'Kiss the Cook' written across his chest. He was focusing so hard on the food in front of him, he didn't notice you creep up behind him.

Slowly, you tip-toed your way to his back, poking one of his shoulder blades and whispering, "Whatcha cooking?"

"MON DIEU!" Francis shrieked, almost as loudly as Alfred at a horror movie festival. He whipped around to see you almost exploding in laughter, tears pricking your eyes. He put his hands on his hips in a huff, unamused.

Slowly, your teasing died down as you wiped at your eyes. You looked up to see Francis looking at you, a genuine smile playing at his lips despite his pouting. You were used to him looking at you, but this look was more…distant…Dreamy, if you will. It caused you to look away, hoping to hide the light red dusting your cheeks.

Too late! Francis caught sight of your flushed cheeks, and smirked, completely destroying the beautiful smile he was holding before. "So _, you became tired and decided to see the beauty that is moi?" He took some spices out of a cabinet and began embellishing his eggs.

You took a seat in one of the chairs at the table. "You got half of it right. Why are you cooking anyway? Haven't you eaten?"

Francis nodded. After the meeting had ended, everyone went out for Italian, much to Feliciano's delight. Everyone except you, that is. You had some work to get done at home, and boy were you hungry!

"Oui, I've eaten, but I doubt you have," he set the plate with the omelet on it in front of you, "Enjoy~"

You looked up at him with questioning eyes, as if asking if he was serious. "…T-This isn't spiked, is it…?" Francis clutched at his chest, faking that he was in pain. "Oh _, how you wound me! I would never do something as shameful as that to you…! Unless…you wanted me to~"

You rolled your eyes and thanked him for the meal. You took one bite of the omelet and felt you'd died and gone to heaven. It was like nothing you'd never tasted! You're mouth stuffed, you faced the Frenchmen once again. "Dish tash aouwshum!" Francis chuckled, saying you were as bad as the American.

You were about to say something else, when Francis abruptly grabbed your forearm, thoroughly catching you off-guard. "F-Francis! What are you…" He was looking intently at your elbow, causing you to follow his gaze. You saw a long cut running down your pajamas. _That's it? A hole?_

Francis let go of your arm and stood, saying he'd be back in a moment. You heard lots of bustling and movement in the other room, hearing him mutter things like "Where is it?" and "It's got to be around here somewhere…"Finally, a muffled 'AHA!' was heard through the wall as he strode back into the room, grasping your arm yet again.

In between his fingers was a needle and some thread. "Now I'm going to need you to remain still, alright mon cherie?" Hesitantly, you nodded. With nimble fingers, he pushed the needle through your pajamas, expertly patching the clothing together.

The whole time this was going on, your eyes never left his. You couldn't help but wonder why he was doing all this for you. You barely knew the guy, yet he was all but bending over backwards for you. Despite what others thought about him, you thought that he was really…sweet.

"All done, belle! You can congratulate me now~" He looked up and met your stare, slightly taken aback by how you were looking at him. "M-Mon fleur…Is there something you'd like to say…?"

You swallowed hard and nodded, tearing your gaze away from him for the second time that evening. You took a deep breath before speaking again.

"F-Francis…do you…l-love me…?"

Francis blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Then, he did the unthinkable. He blushed. Hard. If the circumstances had been different, you'd have teased him about it. But right then, crap was serious…

Francis had his eyes glued on the floor, seemingly trying to steady his uneven breathing.

"…"

"W-What was that, Francis?"

"…_."

"A little louder, please?"

"I LOVE YOU, _!"

You could tell that he was very uncomfortable, because he had closed his eyes, still facing the floor. You thought he was finished, but he continued.

"_, I've felt something for you since the first day we met. Not only are you beautiful, but you have such a sparkling personality, one even sweeter than my wine. I know that many people see me as just some pervert, but I'm not. I just have some…urges, but I'm a man, for goodness sake, I'd be afraid if I didn't! What I'm trying to say is, you're the only one who makes me show my true colors. _, je t'aime. I ask that you please mend this hole in my heart as I've done to the hole in your shirt."

By then, Francis was looking deep into your (e/c) eyes, searching for some sort of emotion. He may not have seen it, but you were breath-taken. No one had ever really confessed to you, and you could tell from the sparkle in his eye that he was serious.

After a long while of nothing being said, Francis cleared his throat dejectedly. "I-If you do not feel the same way I under- wah!"

Surprising even yourself, you mashed your lips to his. At first, Francis was too shocked to respond, but soon he melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. True, the kiss was a little sloppy and chaste for the Frenchie's liking, but you lacked experience, and no one but him would have the opportunity of being your teacher.

When you pulled away, a small smile was on your face, a similar expression on your lover's. "Francis, I love you too." Happily, he enveloped you into a tight hug, muttering sweet nothings in your ear.

And to think this was all a result to a small hole in your PJs.

* * *

**Yes, it has been done~! I've been thinking about writing this story for the longest, so it's good to finally have the France x Reader out of the way. Well, this was SUPER fluffy to me, anyone else. (I'm still angry at the rest of the nations for not showing up...:I)**

**China: We're sorry, aru!**

**America: Yeah dudette, France is just so freaking creepy!**

**Arthur: I agree with America on this one, the Frog is rather creepy...Not as creepy as Ivan, though...**

**Ivan: Kolkolkolkolkol...**

**Alright, let's wrap this up before one of them dies~ I do not own Hetalia, please R&R!**


End file.
